LITMIR.BIZ

      Sheriff Hank Crawford wasn’t just a piece of Alaskan eye candy, she realized. He was a sweet-natured gentleman who happened to be close friends with Connor North. Between his gold badge and his relationship with the North family, he was causing warning sirens to clang in her head.

      Sage didn’t want to admit it, but she felt a little forlorn as she watched Hank head off toward the parking lot adjacent to the pier. She saw him climb into a hunter green truck before he roared off into the distance. Suddenly it hit her that she didn’t know a single person in Owl Creek except the good-looking sheriff. She bit her lip. Perhaps her decision to come to Alaska had been based on emotion and grief over her mother’s death rather than being a pragmatic decision to seek out her truths.

      Had she made a mistake in traveling so far outside her comfort zone?

      The truth shall make you free. The Bible verse from John washed over her. Lately it had really resonated with her. Truth was important. Being here in Owl Creek meant she was one step closer to uncovering the secrets from her past.

      She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to keep her toes warm in her flimsy boots. Hank had been spot-on in his assessment of her winter gear. She made a mental note to purchase a sturdier pair, ones with insulation from the snow and ice.

      Miss Trudy Miller, the owner of the bed-and-breakfast where she would be staying, had sent Sage a message stating she would be picked up at the pier by her daughter Piper. Sage glanced at her watch, wondering if they had gotten the pickup time wrong. Suddenly, a large white van came barreling into the lot, stopping with a loud squeal. A few seconds later, a woman came running toward her holding a sheet of poster board with her name on it. Sage grinned at the sign being held up by the petite woman with dark curly hair and tawny-colored skin. She was wearing a red-and-black-checkered jacket with a thick turtleneck peeking out from underneath it, along with a sturdy pair of boots.

      “Are you Sage Duncan?” the woman asked breathlessly as she reached her side.

      “Yes,” she answered with a nod.

      “I’m Piper. Trudy’s daughter,” she said, showcasing a set of pearly whites as she smiled at her. “So sorry I’m late. My van didn’t want to start for me. Betsy gets finicky once the temperature plummets. Let me get your luggage.”

      “Oh no, I can manage. It’s rather heavy,” Sage explained, feeling guilty about making Piper carry her supersized valise.

      “No worries. I’m mightier than I look,” the other woman said with a wink, grabbing the bag and lugging it toward her van. She looked over her shoulder at Sage. “I grew up with an older brother who loved to wrestle. It made me strong.”

      Sage chuckled at the image of Piper wrestling her brother. She’d always wanted siblings but had been raised as an only child. Now that she looked back on it, she viewed it in a whole new light. She’d always known she was adopted. According to her father, Jane had struggled with infertility. Aunt Cathy, her mother’s sister, had made a reference at her mother’s funeral about desperate choices she’d made in the past. Although Sage had tried to get her to elaborate, her aunt refused to tell her anything further on the subject.

      Sage reached for the poster-board sign, then picked up her small checkered duffel bag and followed behind Piper. She looked around her at the pine trees and the huge mountains looming in the distance. Wow. She really was in a completely different world right now, miles and miles away from sandy beaches and orange groves.

      As they drove along snow-covered roads, Piper took the time to point out local landmarks, the shops in the charming downtown area and the Snowy Owl Diner where Piper worked when she wasn’t helping out at the bed-and-breakfast. Sage sat back and tried to let it all soak in.

      “Owl Creek isn’t a very big town, but the folks here are tight-knit and friendly.” She let out a throaty chuckle. “That’s not to say there isn’t the occasional drama breaking out, but it usually involves game night or the annual Alaskan cook-off competition. For the most part, this town is the very definition of serenity.”

      Sage could use a little peace right about now. She was trying to mourn her mother’s death while wrapping her head around her unforgivable act. It was all so hard to process. But she knew coming to Owl Creek might give her the closure she so desperately craved.

      Piper continued. “If you want a good bison burger, come on over and check the diner out. We also make a mean salmon chowder.” Pride rang out in her voice.

      “Mmm. Those both sound delicious,” Sage’s appetite kicked up at the mere mention of food. She hadn’t eaten a bite since her layover in Seattle and her tummy was beginning to grumble.

      Sage’s heart began to hammer inside her chest as Piper pointed out a white chalet-style shop. A help wanted sign hung in the window. “There’s the famous North Star Chocolate Shop,” Piper told her, slowing down as they drove past it. “It’s one of the main industries of Owl Creek. There’s a factory down the road where they make the chocolate. They give tours twice a week.” She licked her lips. “And they give out chocolate samples.”

      “That sounds fun,” Sage said. “I’ll make a point to swing by there.” She hoped her nerves weren’t showing, but it was hard to stay calm, cool and collected when anything related to the North family was mentioned. She had researched the family and memorized their names and faces. Nate and Willa were Lily’s parents. They had two adult children, Connor and Braden. Beulah North was the matriarch and head of the chocolate company. She was married to Jennings. There were also some other cousins, aunts, uncles and distant relations.

      While looking at photos of the family, Sage had tried to find a resemblance between herself and the Norths, but there really wasn’t anything discernible. There was a part of her that wondered if Nate and Willa would take one look at her and recognize her as their own. Was such a thing even possible, or was she simply being fanciful? Maybe this was all a grand mistake. Perhaps she wasn’t Lily North after all.

      Piper slowed the van down and turned down a snow-covered lane lined with stunning spruce trees. At the end of the street stood a pewter-and-black sign announcing Miss Trudy’s Bed and Breakfast. Piper turned into a driveway and announced, “We’re here!”

      The inn was a

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